


Final Curtain Call

by LittleWatty



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleWatty/pseuds/LittleWatty
Summary: As the Curtain Falls alternate eventsAlternate events for High Noon (not canon for Kitt and Reyes). Initial blame goes to @life-is-no-sugarlicking and their angsty dream for making this come to life. An idea I’ve been sitting on for a while that I finally did. Then Reyes Week came around, and the second part happened. Sorry not sorry.Let’s get this party started >:D





	1. Chapter 1

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

The words that started it all. And ended it. Those words changed everything the first time Kitt heard them muttered in that purr of an accent. It gave her life, gave her a purpose, something to fight for. They made her life her own. The joys were her joys, the pains her pains. Now, here, they destroyed everything their first muttering had built.

Reyes lied to her. They were supposed to be meeting the Charlatan - but here he was, cloaked in darkness, that face she’d grown to love highlighted by the faintest spatterings of sunlight. How could she have not seen this coming? Had she really been that blind? Maybe she iddn’t want to see it, so she ignored everything that told her otherwise. Whatever the answer, her heart shattered in her chest when he looked at her.

“You lied to me?! This whole time. It was just a game to you, wasn’t it?” The pain cut through her words, echoing back into her ears, compounding it until the sound chipped away at the strength holding her up.

Masked as he may be, Reyes’ face twitched with her words, if she didn’t know any better she might even think that was real guilt in his features. “Not about everything. You know who I really am.”

“You promised--!”

Sloane Kelly stepped in between the two of them, arms crossed over her chest, ready to face down the ‘Charlatan’ once and for all. She wasn’t there for a lover’s quarrel, and wouldn’t stomach listening to one. “You said you wanted to ‘settle things’. How?”

There wasn’t time to solve things with Kitt yet. Reyes glanced at her briefly before landing in the dirt before them. “A duel. You and me, right now. Winner takes Kadara Port.”

Kitt grabbed Sloane’s arm, but was shoved off by the other woman. Trying to help, and this is the treatment she gets. Sloane could go to hell, and Reyes… If he was stupid enough to die in this duel, he probably deserved it. But her anger at him for keeping this secret didn’t help stay the tears of frustration and pain that she forced back.

“I’ll take those terms.”

It was light something right out of those old westerns her dad made her watch as a little kid. Two foes circling each other, hands hovering by their sidearms. Absorbed into their own worlds while Kitt felt like she was drowning alone. Her companions had tried to offer comfort, but she shooed them off, asking them to give her space. So they did. And now she had to struggle with her own mind to keep the world from crashing in.

_“Pathfinder--”_

There was only a brief moment where they all saw Sloane’s hand raise her gun. She was faster than Reyes, and her shot rang out, echoing through the caves. They all froze in place, the entire moment still as an old photo, each person trying to absorb what just happened.

Then she fell.

Kitt’s skull cracked on the cave floor, sending sparks behind her eyes, but that was the least of her worries. There was blood everywhere. Her gasping was wet, sticky, as she tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t move. Why couldn’t she feel it…? There should have been pain, but all she could feel was the ache in the back of her head and the twisting of her consciousness as she struggled to stay awake.

“Kid!” “Pathfinder!” _“Kitt!!”_

Her companions were at her side in a moment, scrambling for medigel to stop the bleeding, but Sloane was a good shot. It was a struggle, dragging her eyes across the scene to find Reyes. The pain she had felt at his betrayal now echoed in his features. His lies would be all she knew. Whatever he might have done to make up for this, lost to the wind.

_“Pathfinder, I am sorry.”_

“Don’t… don’t worry about it, SAM...” she choked out, feeling the warm trickle of her own blood down her lip. It was getting cold there on the floor. “C-commence transfer… and thank you…”

_“Commencing transfer of Pathfinder authority to Cora Haprer. Moment.”_

There was some sound of arguing echoing in the background, but Kitt’s slipping mind could barely focus on it. Without SAM’s attention fully on her, it was harder to stay awake, but she had to try. It was Sloane and Reyes. The two that killed her. Oh the words she’d have for them. Words that would likely die with her.

“She wasn’t part of this!”

“The Pathfinder was part of this the second you got her involved. This is your fault, Vidal.”

“You didn’t have to shoot her!”

“Taking a page from your own book, Charlatan. Now, where were we?”

Another shot echoed through the cave and a body hit the floor. Kitt closed her eyes at the sound of footsteps approaching. The presence of Drack and Vetra faded, scuffling sounds telling her they were giving her space, as another person took their place. Warm. A shaking hand against her cheek made her eyes open again, but the world was fuzzy.

 _“The transfer has been completed, Katherine.”_ SAM’s voice chimed in from her omnitool. _“Would you like me to stay?”_

Kitt tried to speak, but her lack of breath made little more than a gargle come out. Biting back in the inevitable, she managed to choke out, “no.” What little energy remained she tried to use to bring the dark face above her into focus, but it didn’t matter regardless, she knew those hands. That warmth. It was Reyes.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” The only response she could give was a shake of her head. “Kitt, I… I’m sorry. There was a plan. Sloane was never going to win that duel. Shit.“ Emotions played across his face with an honest he’d never shown her before, yet he was still holding back.

Maybe it was the peace that death offered that made her so calm. He’d ruined everything, but she wasn’t even angry anymore. Part of her wanted to admit that she had loved him… a love that she had thought honest on both sides. If it was, she wouldn’t know now. He would have to speak or forever hold his peace.

“Reyes…” her voice was barely a whisper, but it caught his attention. Ignoring the blood that smeared across his hands and armor, he lifted her gently off the ground to cradle here close.  His face came into focus, bringing a smile to her lips. As much as she wanted to hate him before, him being here somehow made it seem like this was okay, a worthwhile last view.

“Damnit. Kitt.” He looked like he was struggling with his words - for once in his life - as he was coming to grips with his emotions. Those might even be honest tears in his eyes. “Fuck it. Kitt, I love you.”

These breaths were her last, but the painful irony made her laugh, her entire body shaking as it went into shock. “Reyes…” His name on her lips made him hold her closer. “Go to hell.”

Through everything, Kitt stayed true to herself, never going against her own gut. In her last moments, he saw that, and he smiled. The fire left her eyes. The heat drained from her body with her life blood. SAM’s transfer had alerted the Tempest to the situation, but it was too late by the time the remainder of the Pathfinder’s crew arrived at the cave. Not even their Asari doctor could save her now.

No Outlaws would survive the wrath of the Charlatan. Kadara Port was his. But at too great a cost.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SORRY NOT SORRY. *runs away*

If there was ever the possibility for the Nexus to fall silent in its entirety, that moment was now. The entire station was dimmed, entire sections under blackout orders, shops closed, the entire place little more than a ghost town. Not unlike that very first day that the Hyperion docked unexpectedly. The docking and immigration area was the only exception.

Blue light from the Tempest’s landing thrusters illuminated the bridges leading to the docking platform, and the balconies beyond, giving all patrons to this unfortunate event a soothing light to see by.

A single orange shuttle had landed among the buildings in the back, virtually unnoticed by Nexus security, carrying but one passenger. An uninvited guest who could never take no for an answer. No matter how many times they said this was his fault, he would not be kept from her, not now, not for this. He even traded his usual garb for something more... appropriate.

Even as the Ryder name may be hated back in the Milky Way and half scorned here in Andromeda, a sea of black greeted the Tempest crew on the dock. Pallbearers in their own right. She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. They’d all been given time to mourn their fallen commrade in the privacy of the Nexus. There were those he knew, Vetra, Drack, Liam, Jaal, Cora, Peebee… and those he had only seen in passing. Suvi, Kallo, Lexi, Gil. Each of their names was so easily associated with a face and a story. She’d loved them like the family she never really got to have.

The procession was somber. No words were spoken, either from the crowd or the crew, save for the exception of the pompus asshole that had taken the helm of the Initiative. Director Tann’s speech echoed out over silent heads and deaf ears. No one listened to him because no one cared. This wasn’t the loss of some politician. This was their Pathfinder. The one who brought the Heleus home, who gave them Podromos, Taerve Uni, who restored Havarl. Even the angara mourned the loss.

As the salarian prattled on, some words mingled through the crowds, the seed of an idea spreading from ear to ear, mind to mind.

_“It was those exiles on Kadara.” “I heard it was her lover, the Charlatan.” “Some are saying the Charlatan tricked the Pathfinder into meeting Sloane Kelly.” “Those exiles are nothing but bad news. They need to be taken care of.” “She shouldn’t have trusted someone who goes by the name the ‘Charlatan’. It’s her own fault.”_

Reyes’ nose twitched in frustration, but he could not speak out, everything they said was not too far off from the truth. It was his fault, whatever way he looked at it, no matter how many times he replayed it in his head. She had gotten involved because of him, and he had wanted to play a game instead of finishing things quick and clean like he should have. Sloane Kelly may have pulled the trigger, but he was just as guilty for the bullet that pierced her chest.

Biting off the train of thought, he disappeared back into the crowd, unnoticed even by the Tempest crew as they held their positions in mourning. It was a quiet relief. If any of them knew he was there, he knew there would be nothing stopping them from putting a bullet into him, as vengeance.

Beside Tiran Kandros was one face he did not recognize, not on its own, but his identity was unmistakable. The same red hair, though duller, the same kind of green to his eyes, though without the haze of blue from lingering biotics, and the light spattering of freckles over his skin.  _Christopher Ryder. Shit._ He didn’t know that her twin had woken up yet. It must have been recent or she would have told him before… before everything happened. A thought lingered in the back of his mind, wondering if he had been told the entire story, or the official one.

Reyes worked his way through the blackness, even as it melded together, in order to be closer. The drawling speech was finally coming to its close as the casket was placed on a pedestal. The Tempest would have kept her body in a cryo state during its travels… she would be just as she had been the last time he saw her. Only now she was cold. Gone.

As expected, the Tempest crew was allowed to pay their respects first. Cora Harper, the newly appointed human Pathfinder, stood back and motioned for the second Ryder to take her place. Reyes knew he should be up there. He’d loved her, he deserved to see her, to be with her, but it was too risky. If he wanted to see Kitt… to pay his last respects… he would have to blend in with the common folk. It made his stomach turn.

The crowd moved slowly. Somewhere in the back, far beyond his sight, chanting broke out. A protest? Here? At a  _funeral_?! The people that lived in this god forsaken place never changed. Reyes resisted the urge to spit his frustrations at the ground. Kandros left the stand, pushing his way through the crowd to deal with the protests personally, he assumed. Many others filtered out of the line, getting as far from the shouting as they could, a quiet benefit that he was mildly grateful for.

Step by step, he grew ever closer to her, but his heart ached for every person between him and the woman he had loved. Four people. Words wouldn’t be enough. There was no forgiveness for this. No taking back the actions that had led to this moment. Every step now felt like a hand around his throat, growing ever tighter, choking out the life within him. Three people. Could he face this? Could he face the woman he had gotten killed through his own unfortunate actions?

Now there were only two. Hastily, Reyes pulled his holotags from around his neck. The Alliance did not exist within Andromeda, but it was a time in his life that had forever shaped him, memories that he didn’t necessarily want to be gone forever. On the back side, the head of a jackal etched in by an old squad mate. The CO that had given him his callsign. One person.

A hand latched onto his arm and yanked him out of the line, away from Kitt, away from his Pathfinder, and slammed his back into the wall. “What are you doing here?!” Furious green-hazel eyes bored into his soul, demanding answers and blood.

“I take you are Chris Ryder,” he tried to speak smoothly, hand latched tightly around the holotags. Now was not the time to lose them.

“I’m the brother to the woman you killed, yeah.”

Straight to the point. How familiar. “Tsk, tsk, you should read more closely. It wasn’t me that pulled the trigger.”

“You might as well have.” A fist met his gut, the physical pain echoing what he had been feeling emotionally for days, doubling him over and sending the holotags skitting across the floor. He tried to reach after them but found his back forced against the wall once more. “There must be something wrong in your head if you think you’re welcome here after what you did.”

“I’m not here to be welcome,” Reyes growled, eyes flicking to the side to find where his tags had stopped. “The only reason I am here is to see Kitt, then I will be on my way.”

“I don’t care why you’re here. You don’t deserve to see her again.”

A shot through his own heart. His hands shook as he clenched them tight, holding back the desire to knock some sense into this punky kid, thinking he could keep him, Reyes Vidal, Charlatan, away from the woman he loved. But picking a fight at her funeral was not the brightest move. There were other ways. Better ways.

“Arguing with you is a waste of my time, Christopher,” the name rolled off his tongue, chastizing. “Your sister was important to me, despite what the Tempest crew may tell you. Hurting her… it was a mistake.”

“But you didn’t just hurt her. You  _killed_  her. Whatever your intentions, they got her killed.”

“You know what they say. The path to hell is paved with good intentions.” A forearm across his collarbone slammed him back into the wall again. “Alright, listen. Causing a scene was never in my plan. All I wanted was to get in, see her, and then get out. To apologize, one last time.”

“Why should I let you?”

“Because I loved her.” Truer words had never left his lips. The fact of it was something he had struggled with for so long. To admit that this initiative dog, the Pathfinder of all things, had caught him so off guard… accepted his darker habits alongside his desire for a better Kadara. She had given him the chance to be someone different, someone important, and he had returned it with a bullet to her chest from the gun of Sloane Kelly. His fault. Her death was still his fault. “Please.”

Chris seemed to hesitate at the proposal. The twist in his brows was evidence enough that he was still angry, but the thought was lingering, the possibility was alive. With a grunt, he shoved Reyes back into the wall one more time before he backed off. “You have one minute. If I ever see you again, I’ll send you out the nearest airlock.”

“A visit to Kadara is not something I would recommend for you, in that case.” Reyes brushed off his jacket, searching the ground for his tags, the one last thing he had to give. They were found underneath the foot of a very angry krogan. When he looked up to meet his eyes, all he got was a low growl of displeasure. “Nakmor Drack. Good to see you again.”

With a disgruntled scoff, the krogan kicked the tags across the ground to his feet. That was a nod of approval, if he’s ever seen one from the Nakmor clan.

Most of the crowd had filtered away by the time Reyes returned to where she was lying in wait. The entire Tempest crew was there… and no longer could he hide from them, with Chris Ryder on his heels the entire time. Liam stepped forward to confront him, but was held back by Cora.

“Reyes.”

“Pathfinder.”

_“It is good to see you again, Mr. Vidal, despite the unfortunate circumstances.”_

He sighed, always having associated that monotone voice with Kitt and her antics. “It’s… good to hear from you too, SAM.”

_“I have a message for you from Katherine, if you would like it sent to your shuttle.”_

That gave him pause. A message? “Yes, please.” Anything. He would take anything, any memory, of Kitt that he was able to have. Her family and her crew would give him no concessions, leaving him with nothing but her own words in whatever message she had left.

_“Of course.”_

All eyes stared into his back as he finally turned to Katherine Ryder, dressed in her best, cleaned up, peaceful… but gone. Those eyes would never open again. He’d never hear her giving him lip. All that fire, all that attitude, lost to the stars. Somewhere out there, one would shine a little brighter for her. If he was lucky, maybe her soul would choose Govorkam. Just to be close to him.

It was hard to swallow past the lump that lived in his throat, clammy hands fiddling with his tags, each breath more difficult than the last. If there was anything he would regret in his life, it would be this. Reyes would have rather lived without ever knowing her than to have to live with the knowledge that his choices killed her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly, extending his hand over hers, tucking his tags into her palm. No one would ever influence him as she did.

“That’s time, Reyes Vidal.” The name was a curse on her brother’s tongue, hissed and hated, but there was nothing more he could do. He’d said his goodbyes, made his apologies, and now it was time to go.

“It probably means little to all of you, but thank you.”

“Go space yourself, Vidal”

Reyes considered himself lucky that, at the very least, none of them had spread the news of the identity that cost Kitt her life. It was the small things.

No one followed him back to the shuttle. No one cared about him or what he would do. He had no influence over anything here, his place was on Kadara, and that’s where he would always be. His little kingdom in its own corner of Heleus.

The terminal in his shuttle blinked with a new message waiting. SAM’s message from Kitt. The last words he would ever see or hear from her. He sat, inhaling deep and exhaling slow, gathering himself before he could face it. Part of him said to wait, but Reyes needed to know what this message was.

 _Subject: I’m sorry_  
To: Reyes Vidal  
From: TEMPEST AUTOMATIC MESSAGING SERVICES (℅ Katherine Ryder)  
Attachment: audiofile1643

_Reyes, I don’t know how to really put this into words, but I’m sorry. I asked SAM to set up this message in case, well, in case I don’t make it back one day. There are some things that just need to be said.  
Kitt_

_[Playing attachment]_

The speakers in his shuttle crackled to life.

 _“Shit, where’s the… gah! SAM how do I even use this thing?”_  
“The message is recording, Pathfinder.”  
“What?? Damnit. Okay, um… Reyes… I, um… damnit. Okay. Get it together Kitt. I love you, Reyes.”

_“I love you.”_


End file.
